


Once Upon a Werewolf

by Vienna1995



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27808543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vienna1995/pseuds/Vienna1995





	1. Prologue

Walking into chemistry I feel a strange sense that something is off, but I ignore it the best I can. I sit down at an empty lab table, pulling my sweater close to my body. The room is ice cold. I try my best to get rid of the feeling that something is wrong by taking out my notebook and jotting down the notes on the board.

I mindlessly look up from writing, so shocked by what I see that the notebook falls out of my hands and onto the floor in a loud thump. The sound echoes through the class, but I don't notice. My eyes are locked on him, too stunned to be modest in my stare.

"Isaac?" I whisper, unable to stop from uttering my thoughts aloud.

Once the shock of the moment subsides, I realize I'm witnessing a stand off. In one corner is Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski—pair of boys I only know from a reputation of trouble-making— and in the other is Erica Reyes and Isaac. After a moment of staring each other down, Scott and Stiles race to sit next to Lydia Martin. Erica and Isaac settle for the table behind them. And next to me.

I look over at Isaac, searching for some resemblance to the boy I have known since elementary school. I find none in the boy next to me, only a leather jacket and a smirk. He is sitting next to Erica, a former epileptic social outcast turned model.

I didn't even know they knew each other. I sigh, reaching down to pick up my fallen notebook.

"Einstein once said, 'Two things are infinite. The universe and human stupidity and I'm not sure about the universe.'" I hear Mr. Harris quote, walking to the front of the class. "I myself have encountered infinite stupidity. So to combat the plague of ignorance in my class, you're going to combine efforts through a round of group experiments. Let's see if two heads are indeed better than one. Or in Mr. Stiliski's case, less than one."

I weakly laugh at the joke, surprisingly un-amused with Mr. Harris' usual banter. My focus is on something else. As partners were assigned for the first round of experiments, I couldn't help but wish that I would be put with Isaac. Actually, I was unwittingly and silently begging for it. And just like that...

"Isaac Lahey, and Eleanor Montgomery at station 5." Mr. Harris listed off, pointing to a station in the back. My heart was racing.

"Oh and Mr. Lahey," I hear Mr. Harris mock as we make our way to the table, "maybe you could learn a thing or too from Miss. Montgomery. As you and I both know, you could use all the help you can get in this class."

Once at the station I can't help but shuffle around— readjusting my notebook, securing my long blonde locks into a braid and hugging my over-sized cardigan closer to my body. My hands begin to shake.

"So you can teach me something useful? Yeah, right." Isaac jokes as he sits down beside me. For a moment I just look at him. Same deep blue eyes, same lightly curled hair, same tall and slender body—yet something is off. I ignore it.

"I take it you don't plan on pursuing a career in chemistry then." I reply, earning a half-hearted laugh. He turns his gaze from the front of the class to my face, studying it. For a moment his harsh stare drops. Then, like it never happened, he smirks.

"I was thinking more of an assassin." He replies, pouring too much sugar into the test tube.

I choose to ignore his clear lack of interest in school, including this lab, and focus more on the reason I wanted so badly to be partnered with him. I take a deep breath.

"I knew you didn't kill him." I say, no lower than a whisper. So low in fact, that I was surprised when he whips his eyes back to mine. No trace of the arrogance once in them was left. The look he gave me took me back to the young Isaac I had once been so close with. Like he had never left.

"Oh, El," He said, voice soft and low. His eyes lower for a minute, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I just thought you should know." I blurt out in an attempt to take back what I had just said.

My shaky hand reaches for the test tube, trying to just go back to the lab. With unfocused eyes, I end up pouring sugar outside of the beaker, spilling it on the table. I sigh. Before I can try again, a warm hand covers mine.

"Eleanor stop." He says taking the test tube out of my hand and returning it to the holder.

"I'm sorry," I sigh once again.

"Eleanor, I need you to stay away from me." He says as he holds tight onto my hand. I look up at him in confusion and hurt. No hint of anger is in his eyes.

"What, why?" I ask, voice breaking.

"I just need you to trust me okay? I don't want you to get hurt," He pleads.

"Get hurt? By who?" I ask, almost afraid of the answer.

"Just listen to me El. I'm dangerous."

With that the first station of the lab is complete and I watch as Isaac walks away. The smirk returns to his face like it never left. Like none of this had ever even happened. Like he never held onto my hand and begged me to stay away from him for my own protection. It was then I start to realize that he was right.

Isaac Lahey is dangerous.


	2. Chapter 1

The late summer sun was at the top of the sky, and a faint golden light danced across my backyard. I stared as beams of light eliminated every leaf of the great oak in my backyard, feeling at peace for a moment. Danny, my best (and arguably only) friend, had stopped by in the afternoon to try swim out all the nerves we had about junior year starting tomorrow. While Danny was nervous about balancing the growing academic pressure and impending college applications with his numerous extracurricular activities, I was feeling nervous about wasting another year. I'd spent much of last year feeling like a bit of an outsider, just watching everyone's lives play out in front of me without ever really living my own. Of course I also felt nervous at the prospect of seeing a Isaac again, but I tried to push that thought from my head. Either way, Danny was confident things would go just fine this year.

Still a bit new, my friendship with Danny has grown slowly over the years. It started with the close proximity when I moved to his neighborhood 5 years back, but then it blossomed from our mutual love of cheesy rom coms, literature and running. Last year Danny had begun to favor my company to that of his jackass of a best friend Jackson Whittemore. Though they both were stars on the lacrosse field together, Jackson had begun to become slightly unhinged halfway through our sophomore year. The final catalyst that pushed us from casual friends to nearly inseparable was when Jackson moved, quite suddenly, to London. Though part of me felt a bit like a replacement best friend, I didn't really mind. Danny had stood up for me on more than a few occasions, and he had assured me that with his help I'd no longer had to worry about my lackluster social life.

"You know, I'm actually really digging the hair," Danny says while floating on his back. I run a hand through my recently cut hair, feeling the blond strands tickle the top of my collarbone. I hadn't let Danny know just how big of a deal this haircut had been, or how I'd done it with the hopes that it might make me feel braver.

"Thanks, I'm still getting used to it." I respond from where I'm laying out on the side of the pool. While Danny was naturally tanned, I spent the summer trying to get as much color on my pale skin as possible.

"Think Isaac would like it as well?" Danny asks and I flip him off without even opening my eyes. He may joke, but we both remember what it had been like for me this summer. And all of it could have been avoided if I never spoke to Isaac that last day of school...

"I don't care what he thinks," I say, but I'm already running the memory back over in my head.

"Hey Eleanor, wait up for a sec!" I hear just as I am about to start my walk back home. I turn around to see Isaac Lahey running up to where I stand. To say I'm shocked would be an understatement. We haven't really spoken in years, and we haven't spoken at all since a particularly bad conversation outside of a nightclub a few weeks back. I'd actually been avoiding him all together. As he reaches me I try not to let the shock show on my face.

"I wanted to talk to you for a second, is that alright?" he asks and gives me the first genuine smile I have seen from him in years. I take in his lightly curled brown hair and his sky blue eyes, making sure it's actually him.

"I, uh, I guess so?" I say and he walks over to a nearby bench. I watch as students walk passed us without a second glance. Clearly they are not as surprised as I am, and they don't give us a second glance.

"Eleanor I wanted to apologize to you," he starts, eyes never leaving mine, "Something happened to me a few days ago. Sort of a near death experience and well, it got me thinking about what is important in my life. I got me thinking about how you were, well are, important in my life."

I just stare at him, unable to process that the words he is speaking are actually coming out of his mouth and not my imagination. Ever since his father's death Isaac had changed, there's just no other way to put it. We had stopped being friends long ago, but back then Isaac had just gotten more reserved and quiet. I had been worried back then, and rightfully so, but it was nothing like the feeling of worry that came from this new personality he sported. Since his father died Isaac had become cocky, arrogant and aggressive, both in and off the lacrosse field. But the boy sitting in front of me right now with the bright smile? It was as if no time had passed since we had been inseparable.

"I just have so much that I want to tell you, and that I want to explain to you about what has been happening with me. I just want you back in my life El. If you'll have me."

I didn't know what to say. My mind was reeling. I felt like I needed to pinch myself. I'd wanted to reach out to Isaac back when the news first hit that his dad was murdered, and even more so when I was told he had been abused for years, but then he told me to stay away from him so I had. Having him sitting here in front of me now, telling me that he wanted me back in his life, it just didn't feel real.

"Is this a joke?" I ask finally, and I watch his smile fade a bit.

"No, this isn't a joke. But if this was a mistake," He says, starting to stand up.

"No, isaac, it wasn't a mistake. I'm just confused." I say and he sits back down, smile wide again.

"There is something I have to go do tonight, but can I come by tonight to talk? We could maybe go for pizza like old times?" He asks and I can't help by smile back.

"Yeah I would love that," I say and he pulls me into a hug.

"I really missed you," He says while holding me close. I breath in his scent, still not quite certain that this isn't all a dream. After a moment he pulls away and stands to leave, telling me that I'll see him tonight. I sit at the bench for a moment on my own, unable to keep the smile from rising on my lips. There was so much that still needed to be said, but for the first time in a long time I felt hopeful that we could get back to where we had been.

But he never did come by that night, or any night after. He never called, never picked up when I did. I spent the first week or so confused and hurt. It felt almost as fresh as it had at 13, when he first told me to get out of his life. The news that Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd had gone missing came out and I began to panic. If his friends were missing, then what if something happened to him? I went to Danny with those fears and he said that Isaac had gone to the last few lacrosse conditioning practices, and it wasn't likely he was missing. Part of me wanted to go a practice and call him out, but I didn't even know what I would say. So I didn't. I went on with my summer like that conversation had never happened, only letting Danny see just how deep the pain had cut.

"This year is going to be good El," Danny said, breaking me out of my thoughts, "I can feel it."

I wanted to say that I agreed with him, and that junior year was going to be a good one. But even as I laid by the pool with the warm sun radiating off my skin, I still felt an icy twinge deep in my gut.


	3. Flashback: Graveyard

When I was younger I was never afraid of graveyards. The Lahey's had owned and ran the Beacon Hills Cemetery for as long as I had known them. During the summer when my dad was at the hospital, Mr. Lahey brought me along to keep Isaac company while he worked.

Camden, Isaac's older and more charismatic brother, was almost never there. He spent his summers at a combination of swim practice, soccer camp, a friend's house or any number of other activities that Isaac either too young for, or disinterested in. No, the ever lanky and uncoordinated Isaac was disinterested in any sports or large groups of friends. He prefered spending the day with me and getting into all sorts of trouble in the cemetery.

We spent some days racing through the graveyard in a cutthroat game of tag or hide and seek. Other days we laid out next to the stones and took turns making up stories about what the person buried beneath must have been like. These stories were always elaborate tales of heros, circus performers, explorers and knights who all ended up in the graveyard after a long and adventurous life. On days too hot to be spent outdoors, we would watch horror movies in a back room or pretend a ghost was haunting the office. The Beacon Hills Cemetery held some of my most vivid and imaginative childhood memories, as did the woods just on the edge of it.

One day, when Camden was 14, he had broken his arm wrestling with friends and no longer could attend his swim practice. After that, Camden reluctantly joined us on the days he couldn't find a friend to save him from the boredom. He spent many days hogging the TV, unwilling to join us a pair of 8 year olds. After a while the boredom wore him down, and he convinced us to go into the woods. Isaac and I were too scared to go there by ourselves, having heard stories of werewolves and vampires lurking in the trees. Many of these stories were in fact told to us by Camden, who loved the supernatural almost as much as he loved to tease us. However, soon after the first time he dragged us out deep into the forest, Camden realized that it was no fun to play with two kids who were too scared to move. From then on he convinced us that if we pretended to be werewolves, we would be less scared.

"Come on guys, it will be fun," Camden pleaded, standing on a giant tree stump like it was a stage,"Just pretend we are the werewolves that live in the forest."

"I don't want to be a werewolf," I protested.

"Fine El, you can be uh, a witch."

"You already look like a witch," Isaac agreed, and I punched him in the arm. Though I wondered if my waist length blond hair and and messy overalls proved, or disproved, his point.

"I will be a witch then and cast spells on both of you then!" I say, picking up a stick to use as a wand.

"Not that kind of witch dummy, this isn't Harry Potter. Witches in this game help the werewolves," Camden said

"Then who is fighting who?" Isaac asked, confused that this game didn't seem to match Camden's competitive personality .

"Werewolf hunters of course!"

And from then, we spent the entire summer out in the woods playing witches, werewolves and hunters. Camden and Isaac would run through the woods, pretending to be chased by hunters. If they got trapped or hurt, they would come to me and let me rub dirt over the legs like I was healing them, as long as I was careful not to get too much dirt on Camden's cast. Though Camden was a bit too old for that sort of stuff at his age, looking back I think he liked taking a break from the pressure of high school life. Though by the time Camden's arm had healed, he went back to his various sports practices like nothing had ever happened. Despite this, Isaac and I got so attached to the game that we played it alone. Sometimes we would switch roles, other times we would both be werewolves and spend the day chasing each other around. We outgrew it eventually, but I could pinpoint those days in the woods as some of the happiest memories of my childhood.


	4. Chapter 2

"You feeling nervous Eleanor?" My dad asks from the passenger seat of our shared silver Honda Pilot. His shift at the hospital started at 10am today, so he offered to give me a ride to school.

"Would you believe me if I said no?" I said, hands messing with my newly cut hair. I still wasn't used to the lack of weight on my shoulders and the quick styling job gave me way too much time to overthink everything this morning. I had tried on nearly everything in my closet before settling on my usual tank top/cardigan/black jeans look. But now I was starting to question that decision as well.

"Not at all," Dad laughed, "but I do know that everything is going to be fine like it always is."

My dad has been a constant source of encouragement and comfort in my life. I know he's tried his best over the years to make sure I never felt alone, despite the loss of my mother and his long shifts at the hospital. He was there for me when my friendship with Isaac first fell apart. He held me as I sobbed over the news of Mr. Lahey's death and the even more horrendous news of the abuse he put Isaac through. My dad is my rock, and has been for years. Though despite this, his assurances did little to settle my mood, and I just stayed silent.

"You know that Danny kid seems really nice," He starts again, "You never know maybe something could happen?"

"You do know Danny is gay right Dad?" I laugh

"Oh right, yeah of course. But hey, isn't he on the lacrosse team? Maybe he could set you up?"

I bring my hands up to cover my face and let out a big sigh. "My god dad, I don't want a boyfriend! Also, isn't it your job to try and keep boys away from me? Not encourage me to pursue a bunch of jocks?"

"Woah, I never said a bunch," He says, bringing his hands up in defence before quickly putting them back on the steering wheel, "I'm just saying maybe dating could be fun for you. And I want you to know that you can talk to me about it if you need to."

"Oh look, we are here," I say as we pull up to the school, "Thanks for the ride Dad!"

The car pulls to a stop and I quickly rush out the door. Before shutting it though, I peak my head back in and say, "I get what you are trying to do, and I do appreciate it. But I don't think I'm going to be talking to you about boys anytime soon, alright?"

"Alight, alright," He says, "I get it! Good luck at school El!"

As his car pulls away I start walking to the main building. On my way there I am stunned by two matching black motorcycles, and briefly wonder which hormone ridden teenage boys they belong to. I meet up with Danny as he is placing a set of textbooks in his locker.

"Hey," He says looking over at me, "Thank god they decided to start this week on a Wednesday right? I don't think I could handle an entire week of this."

"Agreed," I say and open my locker, "What is your first class again?"

"Precalc, you?"

"Uh let me check," I say reaching into my bag and pulling out my schedule, "I have English with a woman named Ms. Blake. Is she new?"

"Yeah I think so," Danny says with a shut of his locker, "But remind me again why you aren't in the AP class?"

"I don't know, I just didn't really think I wanted the added stress," I say, leaning against my locker.

"Alright, well hey, did you see this?" Danny asks, motioning toward the bulletin board next to us. Pinned to the board were two missing person posters, one for Vernon Boyd and one for Erica Reyes. Of course I'd heard the news of them being missing over the summer, but coming face to face with their these posters was still surreal. I was never close with either of them, and even had a few nasty run-ins with Erica, but the idea of two kids from our small school missing was not a pleasant one.

"That's horrible, I really hope they're found." I say, backing away from the board as I make my way down the hall to class.

"Yeah, but after the way they acted last year I'm not too surprised they ran off." Danny says, keeping pace with me.

"You think they ran away?" I ask

"Yeah, why do you think they were kidnapped or something?"

"I don't know..." but I cut off when I see a pair of twins walking down the hall, motorcycle helmets balancing in their hands. My thoughts flicker back to the pair of motorcycles I spotted earlier, and my eyes try not to stare. I look over at Danny, who is clearly thinking the same thing that I am.

"Damn," he whispers, "I wouldn't mind getting to know them."

"Damn is right," I agree, "But I've got to get to class. See you later yeah?" I say with a wave.

Danny waves back, eyes still on the twins, and I go look for a seat in the nearly full classroom. I settle for a chair up front, but not before briefly scanning the room. In the crowd of faces I notice Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski, two lacrosse players who were more acquaintances than friends. Scott is all built like an athlete with his broad shoulders, strong arms and a personality that screams "leader". Stiles on the other hand is built like a class clown, with a slender body and sarcastic attitude.

I see Scott looking uncharacteristically focused on the board with a notebook already open, despite the fact that class hadn't started. Stiles is still goofing around on his phone, but I note that he let his buzzed hair grow out a bit more this year. He looks pretty good I think, remembering what my dad had said about how dating might be a nice thing. But I shake the thought from my head as Lydia Martin and Allison Argent enter the room.

It isn't lost on anyone that Stiles seems to only have eyes for Lydia, and one look at her perfectly curled strawberry blond hair reminds me why. As Allison walks passed my desk I see that I wasn't the only girl who decided to chop off her hair this summer. Though I've never spoken more than a few words with either girl, Allison gives me a small smile, before hesitating at the only seat open in class. Based on her body language at the prospect of sitting next to Scott, I take a guess that their very public on/off relationship is currently off.

And then, all at once, buzzing and beeping erupt all over the room. Curious, I reach for my silenced phone and see a text from an unknown number. Before I can read it though, a voice breaks through the commotion.

"The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed sombre under an overcast sky – seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness," A young and beautiful woman, Ms. Blake I assume, recites.

Ms. Blake paces to the front of the class. I take in her slim frame. She is a mix of dark and light. Dark hair, light skin. Dark skirt, light shirt. Dark eyes, light smile. Even her voice gives off the dual tones of a stern warmth, "This is the last line of the first book we are going to read. It is also the last text you will receive in this class. Phone's off everyone."

I shut off my phone with a smile, feeling hopeful that the rest of the class with continue with this tone. Despite not taking a more advanced class, English is my favorite subject and I am happy that Ms. Blake seems just as passionate. Before class can really get started though we are interpreted by a knock at the door. Unsurprisingly, it is someone with a note asking for Scott to leave class. Memories of him missing school, or leaving early come to mind as he is escorted out. 

After that brief interruption, Ms. blake comes back and starts to lecture on colonialism in Africa. She assures us that a bit of background history on the subject will do a great deal of good in understanding the book. Ms. Blake also stresses the importance that darkness plays in the book. Both in the physical and metaphorical sense. Just as she is about to pass the discussion of darkness over to the class, a dark object smashes into the window in a flash.

The class is stunned. Everyone looks over to the window that is now streaked blood red. A single black feather clings to the blood, suggesting that a bird must have tried to fly in the window. The room feels tense as Ms. Blake silently walks over to the window. The tapping of her heels on the floor seem to match the beat of my heart.

Tip, tap,

Tip, tap.

From my desk, I look out to see a murder of black crows, of darkness, coming straight for the window. The class seems to take in a deep breath all at once, but before anyone can react the birds begin to pound into the window. The first few birds hit the window with a bang, causing me to flinch in time with the sound. Then all at once the glass window bursts open, and the classroom explodes into chaos. A tornado of ink black birds tear across the room. I hear screams, the sound of desks being thrown aside and the whoosh of wings. I don't think, I just dive under my desk and put my hands up to protect my face. I feel what must be a mixture of claws and beaks poke and rip against my sweater, my hair and my exposed hands. My body begin to bleed and sting where I have been struck, but I am too stunned to do anything. I stay there under the desk as what feels like a dozen birds attack me. With the room in absolute chaos, my only thought is that I am truly in a heart of darkness.


	5. Flashback: Camden

Camden had been deployed for about 7 months now, but his absence was a constant force. Mr. Lahey would talk to anyone that would listen about how proud he was of his eldest son and how proud his wife would haven been. Camden being active in war never scared Mr. Lahey, he always assumed his perfect son was invincible. How could a straight A student with a killer butterfly stroke and an undeniable charm ever be harmed? I knew Isaac wasn't worried either. As much as his father would clearly favor Camden, it never once dampened Isaac's idealization of his brother. And honestly even I, a 12 year old girl who only briefly wavered from her love of fictional characters to appreciate just how wonderfully handsome her best friend was, idealized him in a way.

No one expected him to fade into the faceless army of fallen soldiers, to return home in a American flag clad coffin or to end up buried in the grave next to his mother far before his time. It was that day, the day two soldiers came knocking on the Lahey's door interrupting the fictitious world of indestructible brothers with the harsh reality of death that everything began to change for us. The look on Mr. Lahey's face when the news was first broke to him fades in my memory, but I can still see the look he gave Isaac when he asked what was going on. The look on his face when he realized that it was this son, the one with the lanky uncoordinated body, the difficulties with school and the painfully shy personality, that was alive. This son was all he had left, and it wasn't enough.


	6. Chapter 6

That night around 9pm I was sitting at the kitchen table with a plate full of take-out pizza that I had no interest in eating. My dad was sat across from me, but didn't have a similar loss of appetite after a long day of work. It was a first day of school tradition to have pizza for dinner, but I felt way too shaken to eat anything.

"They should have taken all of you kids to the hospital." My dad says after putting down his slice, eyes on the bandaids on my arms and forehead.

"They had a medic come in with the Sheriff's office," I argued, "And no one was scratched up enough to really need more than that."

"And what if those birds had rabies?" He asked.

"You know birds can't get rabies Dad! Which one of us is the doctor again?" I joke, "But seriously, I've never seen anything like that in my life. You should have seen the classroom after they finally flew away. The desks were all over the place and it was like the whole room was snowing black feathers.

"I don't know but if he doesn't stop I'm going to get gray hair soon," He says while running his hand through his dark red hair.

"You and me both," I agree and take a tentative bite of pizza, feeling my stomach ease up slightly from the laughter.

"Not that I want to add any more craziness to your day El, but do you want to know happened today at the hospital?" He asked

"Sure. Honestly I would like the distraction. As long as it has nothing to do with birds."

"No, it has nothing to do with birds," He starts, "It does have to do with Isaac. He wasn't at school today was he?"

I put my slice of pizza down, swallowing hard. I would be lying if I said I didn't notice his absence today at school, or that it hadn't disappointed me, but I truthfully hadn't been thinking about him since the bird attack.

"I didn't see him, no." I answered.

"Well I heard from one of my colleagues that he was scheduled for surgery. Apparently he had a nasty injury on his side, or at least that is what his chart said. He was wheeled into the operating room, under anesthesia and everything, but when Doctor Hilliard went to start operating they didn't see a scratch on him." My dad said, looking over at me with wide eyes.

"Is this some kind of joke Dad?" I ask, not amused.

"You tell me Eleanor. This really happened. Hilliard was pissed, said it pushed his schedule back hours and wasted everyone's time. Did you know anything about this?"

"You think that after having not spoken to Isaac for basically years he would come to me and tell me his plans on how to, what, disrupt the surgery schedule?" I ask

"No, no you're right, I'm sorry." He says putting his hands up, "I forget sometimes just how long it has been since you two were friends. I was completely stunned when I heard. I still remember the two of you being attached at the hip, it just really threw me hearing that he would try and pull something like that."

"Yeah..." I say, but my mind is reeling. Thoughts of Isaac, the hospital and the birds all fly around my head. Any small piece of an appetite is gone, and I push my plate away.

"That's not everything though." My Dad starts, "One of our elevators was completely trashed. The glass panels looked like someone had taken a hammer to them or something. The security tapes were wiped clean as well. Complete madness today."

"Is Hitchcock directing both of our lives then?" I ask

"I sure as hell hope not," He responds, "But you've had a hard day, why don't you try and get some sleep? I'll clean up."

That night I laid in bed, unable to fall asleep. Everytime I let my eyes close I felt the birds clawing at my skin. I couldn't stop thinking about what my Dad had said about Isaac at the hospital. Today at school when I found myself subconsciously looking around campus to see if I could spot his familiar head of curls, I never would have guessed he was at Beacon Hills Hospital pulling some sort of prank. Moments like these made me wonder if I had ever known him at all.

When I finally did fall asleep, I dreamt I was on the operating table. The glare from the fluorescents blinded me, but I couldn't move my arms to shield the light. I couldn't move my body at all. Soon the room filled with the woosh of wings, and birds began slicing through my flesh. I woke up in a cold sweat, clutching my arms to my chest. I laid awake for another hour in silence, before falling into a dreamless sleep.

~~~

"Well you look like hell," Danny said to me the next day outside of our economics class with Coach Finstock. I was not particularly excited about this lesson and made no effort to hide my disapproving yawns. Finstock was a decent cross country coach, and I did look forward to the first practice of the season tomorrow, but that coach-like intensity did not translate too well into teaching.

"I feel like it too," I respond with another yawn, "I couldn't sleep at all last night."

"I don't blame you, if I was in that class I wouldn't have been able to sleep either," Danny said and then smiles, "But hey can we talk in the library during study period? I think I met a guy."

"Lucky bastard," I laugh and make my way to a seat in class.

"The stock market is based on two principles, can anyone name them?" Coach Finstock starts and when Scott raises his hand Coach says, "Yes McCall, you can go to the bathroom."

"No Coach, I know the answer." Scott responds and the Finstock laughs. I am not surprised either, Scott has never really shown that much interest in any class or much anything passed lacrosse and Allison.

"Oh, you are serious?" Finstock finally says.

"Yes, it is risk and reward," Scott responds.

"Wow, who are you and what have you done with McCall? Don't answer that, I like you better. Does anyone have a quarter?"

I watch as Stiles, who is sat in front of me, reaches into his pocket to look for a quarter. Instead he flings his hand and a condom flies across the room. I sit wide-eyed, and then turn to Danny with a laugh. He looks equally assumed, but the coach just congratulates a mortified Stiles and continues with his lesson.

"Risk and reward." he says and places a mug on the floor, "Put the quarter in the mug. Watch this." Coach Finstock then leans down across from the mug, and with the flick of his fingers, the quarter flies through into the mug.

"That's how you do it!" he exclaims, and walks over to my desk, "Alright Eleanor, risk or reward?"

"What's the reward coach?" I ask

"If you are able to get this quarter into that mug, you don't have to take the pop quiz tomorrow."

"Coach it is not a pop quiz if you tell us about it," Danny says from his seat next to me and I laugh in agreement.

"Danny, Eleanor, you know I expect more from you both at this point." Finstock says and I stifle a laugh.

"Alright McCall," He starts again, this time in front of Scott's desk, "Risk or reward? The risk, if you put that quarter in the mug, you have to take the pop--well the quiz. And you have to write and essay. Risk vs reward? Or chose not the play."

After a moment of hesitation, Scott decides not to play. Instead Stiles jumps up, excited to try. The whole class looks on, amused that the fairly uncoordinated Stiles is taking this risk. Before he can flick the quarter though, County Sheriff Stilinski walks in and asks if he could see Stiles. The Sheriff was a kind looking man with a strong resemblance to his son. He had been nothing but compassionate to everyone in Ms. Blake's class yesterday. Even still, seeing him always brought up memories of being questioned in the principal's office after Mr. Lahey's death. Since then I have never been able to look at him without feeling a bit uneasy.

That uneasy feeling lasted all throughout class, and kept me from attempting the risk vs reward challenge. I still felt a bit uneasy once I was in the library studying with Danny, but I tried to shake it.

"Alright Danny, spill." I said in a low voice.

"Spill?" he ask, "Oh wait yeah, so remember the pair of twins from yesterday? Or did getting mauled by birds do any serious memory damage?"

I gave his arm a light smack and then responded, "The really hot ones, of course I do. Tell me one of them is the guy you are talking about. Or both of them?" I laughed

"Just one, I don't think I could handle two! His name is Ethan" Danny said, "He was sitting next to me in math and a few other classes. He actually asked for my number and if I would show him around."

"All of this on the first day, you are kidding right?" I ask

"No, I clearly just have better luck than you." He smiles, and shows off his deep-set dimple. I look at Danny, with his tanned skin and toned body, and can't help but feel a bit of jealousy mixed in with my happiness. Seeing my face he says, "He does have a brother though, I mean that could be something?"

"No!" I laugh, "I'm good. This year isn't about guys anyway. It is about... well I don't know what it is about but I am just going to live through you for a moment."

"Mhmm," Danny said, "And there is no chance you aren't interested in him because you are interested in someone else? Someone you maybe aren't supposed to be interested in?"

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that, and we are going to just move on," I smile, and go back to reading through my econ textbook.

"Okay Eleanor, and I'm sure you didn't notice he isn't in school today either..." Danny said. The conversation drops, but we both know that I had noticed. I hadn't told Danny what my Dad had mentioned to me, and I probably wouldn't. I didn't even know how I would bring something like that up. Either way, despite myself, I had begun to worry.

~~~

It was the end of the day, and I was feeling ready to go home and take a nap. After a night without sleep and a constant, nagging worry following me around, I was feeling a bit worse for wear. A quick look in the mirror hanging off the side of my locker showed that I really did look as bad as I felt. Dark rings circled the bottom of my blue eyes, my hair was falling out of the high ponytail I had tried to force it into and the cuts from yesterday had begun to scab over on my forehead. Just as I was walking towards the door though, Ms. Blake calls over to me from her open classroom.

"Eleanor!" She yells from her desk,"I'm glad I caught you! Would you mind coming in here for a second?"

I walk into her room, looking it once over to see that there is no trace of the disaster that happened yesterday. The desks were all back in perfect order, the windows had been replaced and not a single feather was to be seen. If I hadn't been there at the time, I honestly wouldn't have believed it had ever happened.

"Hello Ms. Blake," I say, "How are you?"

"Please sit down," she responds, "And I'm good, no birds flew into my classroom today! But that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Okay," I respond and take a seat, a sense of calm coming over me.

"Eleanor, may I ask why you didn't choose to go into AP english? I know it is none of my business, but since I'm new here and at a bit of a disadvantage with all of the Beacon Hill students, I took the liberty of looking into the previous work of my students. Just wanted to know what I was getting myself into, I'm sure you understand." I nod and she continues, "I read your work Eleanor and let me just say it is excellent. I nearly read everything in your file if I am being honest. There was this one piece you wrote about your mom that just just so honest and raw."

I sit there for a moment in silence, unsure of what I am supposed to say. I had heard praise on my writing before, but I had always assumed it was because a lot of the kids in my class had a tendency to write their papers the night before. I never thought what I wrote was exceptional, but Ms. Blake had called me into her classroom to praise me.

"Well," I say, "I didn't really want the stress of an AP class. I always assumed I would just go to the community college anyway. Maybe major in English or something, so I figured I could just take the college level courses then."

"I only say this because I see great potential in your work, and please tell me if I am being out of line, but I honestly think you should consider changing your schedule to join the AP class. The class has been off to a bit of a slow start since due to the 'bird incident'" She says with air quotes, "And you wouldn't be too far behind. Why don't you take the rest of the week to think about it?"

"Okay," I respond with a smile, feeling grateful that this teacher who hardly even knows me is taking such an interest in my work.

"Okay! Perfect! Let me know by this Friday and we will work it into your schedule. In the meantime in preparation for the course I would like you to do a bit of research just in case you decide to join, if that is okay? Nothing major," I nod and she continues, "The class is currently reading The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan. This book contains strong connections between mothers and daughters. If you could research into your mother's past, maybe see what her childhood was like and her life before you? We have plans to write an essay on the subject sometime next week and I don't want you to fall behind."

"Ms Blake," I start, "I'll do my best but my Mom died when I was really young, I don't know how much I will be able to find."

"I'm so sorry Eleanor I had no idea." She says with a sad look, "I lost my mother when I was young as well. I can't speak for your situation, but from my experience, learning about my about my mother and her history made me feel closer to you. I hope you decide to take the class."

"Thank you, I'll let you know." I say standing up

"Of course Eleanor, and if you have any questions feel free to email me! I'm afraid I will be staying late to finish grading some of this homework, so I will be on email all night."

I nod and walk out of the classroom. Thinking about it now, I realize that I really don't know too much about my mother's past. At least not nearly enough to write an essay about it. All I know is what my father had told me. He met my mother in medical school, they fell in love and had me. When I was 5 years old and still living in San Jose, my mother was in a car accident on the way home from work and died. After that my father moved us to Beacon Hills where we have been ever since. My dad said the my mom was nurse in the hospital he worked at, and that she was a natural healer. She had chosen to work late the night she died, despite the storm storm warning. It was that decision, the decision to help people, that had led to her death.

However, despite that information, I really didn't know much about her. On the walk back home from school I decided that maybe Ms. Blake was right, and I should take that AP class. If it meant having an assignment that helped me learn more about my mom, what would the harm be?


End file.
